Chances
by Lynnlee22
Summary: Philly eventually
1. Chapter 1

**Note: In my world, Josh Griffith never took over Y&R. Gina Tognoni was never fired and Jason Thompson is still playing an Abbott instead of some Newman pod person. As an attempt to maintain sanity, I like to think of the myriad of ways in which Philly could have been salvaged by a writer with the slightest hint of creativity. Now that there is no Phyllis and, for all intents and purposes, no Billy – this is simply for my entertainment and, hopefully, for yours.**

"Do you have to bring that thing with you everywhere?" Victoria narrowed her eyes as the cell phone chimed on the table.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I thought I'd turned it off. I'll handle this and then I'll make sure." He glanced down at the screen and furrowed his brow. "It's just an alert," he murmured, "from the security system at Jabot."

"For what?" She took a small drink from her wine glass and watched his expression change.

"One of the silent alarms has been triggered."

"Don't those alerts go to the police too? I know the ones at Newman always alert the GCPD before …"

"Yeah, they do, but we get the alerts too. And Jack's out of town …" His voice trailed off as he met her gaze. "I should probably go check on things."

"Isn't Phyllis the CEO now? Shouldn't she be the one who's checking on things?"

"Probably, but I don't know if they've changed the alert system to even include her yet." He was already on his feet and reaching for his wallet. "I've just got to check and …"

"I'll handle the check," she snapped. "Just go."

He hesitated for a moment. "Vic," he began, "I …" She turned the chair away from him and reached for her purse. He sighed and quickly headed for the exit.

* * *

"What in the …" His eyes widened as he jumped from the car and rushed towards the flashing lights. This was supposed to be a formality, a blip, a hiccup with technology. He was supposed to go inside, enter the code, and go home – probably to spend the rest of the night attempting to get back in Victoria's good graces. It had never even occurred to him that this could be real, that the alert could have been the result of a true security issue.

"I'm Billy Abbott." He felt his shoulders tense as he saw the large group of uniformed officers gathered. "Can somebody please tell me what's going on here?"

"Mr. Abbott," The officer turned to face him, his expression serious if not grim. "We're not completely certain of the specifics yet, but it appears there's been a security breech. The silent alarm was triggered in one of the offices. Actually, it's good that you're here. Maybe you can help us determine …" He led him over to the screen. "You can see this is the main hallway here. Do you know which office this would be?"

Billy swallowed hard. "Yeah. That's … That's the CEO's office. Phyllis Summers. It's her office."

"Mr. Abbott? Mr. Abbott?"

It was nearly 11:00 now. What was she even doing here? She should have been home. And if she had been, none of this would be happening. He wouldn't be here trying to decipher this feeling. He was supposed to be angry with her, to hate her, to want her to suffer for what she'd done. But maybe the anger was with her actions and not with her. Maybe he hated what had happened, but not her. Maybe the idea of her suffering was far more appealing than the actual reality of …

"Mr. Abbott?"

He jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the officer said calmly, "We're just trying to find a direct number to that office. Do you know a way we might be able to call in and see if we could get someone on the phone?"

"Yeah …" He pulled the phone from his jacket pocket and quickly scrolled through. "Here. This is the direct line." He watched wordlessly as the officer nodded and returned to the small group's base of operations.

If she answered, that meant she was okay, but it also meant she was in there … alone – probably scared, probably terrified. His mind struggled to recall the last conversation they'd had. While he couldn't remember the exact words he'd said, he was certain they hadn't been kind.

The sound of the officer's voice carried through the night air and he felt his breath catch. His legs felt weak as he rushed over to the group.

* * *

"Answer it." His voice was almost manic as he moved closer towards her.

She stared at the gun that pointed directly at her. "What am I supposed to say?" Her mouth grew dry as she heard the click of the gun.

"You'll know if you say the wrong thing," he breathed. "Just answer it."

He struggled to follow the conversation. Everything in him wanted to scream, to demand the answers he needed.

"Billy!" Victoria rushed through the madness to reach him. "What's …"

"Shhh!" He could see the flash of anger and hurt move across her face even through the darkness. On a normal day, he would have apologized, but his focus was elsewhere. "I have to hear this."

"We've lost her." In all the commotion, those words were suddenly very clear.

His heart felt as if it might stop. "What does that mean?! Lost her?!"

"Mr. Abbott," The officer approached him slowly, well aware of his frantic demeanor. "We were able to make contact with Ms. Summers but unfortunately the call was ended before we could establish details that would …"

"But she's okay? I mean, she seemed okay?"

"She indicated that she wasn't allowed to leave. We believe there's at least one individual inside and we do believe him to be armed."

His heart pounded faster with each revelation. "Is she hurt?"

"We weren't able to get enough information to answer all of those questions. We do know that she was able to communicate and that's always a positive sign." He turned back towards the sound of his name. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go meet with the team. We'll keep you updated."

He struggled to take a deep breath. The cold night air seemed especially brutal now.

"Billy? What's going on?"

"It's …" He didn't even know where to start. There were more questions than answers and every bit of energy needed to be focused on solving this problem, not trying to explain it. "I don't even really know, Vic. Someone's in Phyllis' office. We think they might have a gun. We don't know who or why or what they might want …"

"Someone that would have something against Phyllis?" She tilted her head. "That's not exactly a short list, is it?"

He took a small step back. "I really don't think …" He stopped to find his composure. The last thing he wanted was to argue tonight. "You don't need to be here, Vic."

"You don't want me here?"

It could have been hurt in her voice, but in the moment it sounded more like indignation.

"You're not exactly Phyllis' biggest fan, so maybe it would be better if …"

"Last time I checked neither were you. Unless something's changed?" She waited for his response. It was difficult to see his face in the darkness, but the crack of emotion in his voice gave her pause.

"Vic, it's not about that. I've just got to get this sorted out. Jabot is in a really precarious position right now and the last thing we need is this kind of publicity."

"So it has nothing to do with Phyllis? It's all about the company?"

"Just because I don't like the woman doesn't mean I want to see her dead. I would assume you wouldn't either. I mean …"

"Of course not. I don't want that. But I don't see where this is really your responsibility. I say we let the police do their jobs. We need to go home and be grateful that we have our lives and our kids and …"

"You should do that. I just can't. I have to stay here. It's my family's company. It's my father's legacy. You'd do it for Newman, wouldn't you?"

She sighed. "What should I tell the kids?"

He leaned in and lightly kissed her cheek. "Tell them I'll be home soon. Tell them I love them."

"I will." He watched her as she headed back towards her car. His eyes moved back to the officers. They were trained to handle these situations. They knew what they were doing, but they didn't know Phyllis.

* * *

"Why don't you just tell me what it is that you want and we can both walk out of here tonight."

"Like you give a damn what I want." He paced the length of her desk as he continued to rant. "I actually thought you might be different. I thought since you were an Abbott, you might actually try to make some changes, some changes that actually helped people. You made changes alright. Do you have any idea what you've done to me? You and your stupid Jabotiques?"

"No. I really don't. If you'd just tell me, I can do my best to …" She instantly saw this was the wrong response.

"You don't even know. Do you have any idea how insulting that is? You don't even know the names of the people you're ruining. You don't even recognize the lives you're tearing apart?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I honestly don't know what the issue is, but if you'll tell me. If you'll just talk to me, I promise, I'll do everything I can to fix it."

He shook the gun in front of her face. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, you self important bitch. It's too late to fix it. My life is over. I've got nothing left – nothing left to live for. I want you to see it. I want you to see what you've done to me … even if it's the last thing you ever see."


	2. Chapter 2

Every minute felt like an eternity as he watched the officers move around him. They huddled around screens, spoke into radios, and signaled at each other across the darkened lot. The dread and panic that filled him seemed absent from their countenance. Their calm composure pushed him closer and closer to the edge and he finally broke as a young officer nodded politely in passing.

"What the hell are you all doing?" He cut him off as he threw himself into his path. "Are you just going to stand there and let whoever's in there do whatever they want? Aren't you going to try and stop them? Isn't someone going to go in?"

The officer nodded in understanding. "Mr. Abbott," he answered calmly – too calmly. "I assure you we're doing everything we can to ensure tonight ends as well as it can for everyone involved."

"Are you gonna keep talking in riddles or are you gonna answer my question?" He drew in another sharp breath as his chest seemed to tighten even more. "Why isn't someone going in there?"

"Because we don't know what's going on in there, Mr. Abbott." The older, more seasoned officer's voice was more serious as he stepped over to assist. "Believe me, I've been at more of the situations than you can imagine and even though it might seem like we're doing nothing, I can promise you that nobody is taking any of this lightly. We can't send a team into a situation blind. That puts everybody at risk – my men and the people inside. That's no good for any of us."

Billy nodded slowly. "So what then? We just stand here and wait until he decides to come out?"

"We've got our best negotiators working on this right now. We're going to try to call in again and try to talk to him, see if we can establish some trust. That's the first step. We need to get him to believe that we're not out to get him. We need to get him to see that there's another way out of this, a way that doesn't involve someone getting hurt."

"And if you can't?"

"We've got some guys heading up on the roof. They're working on trying to get some eyes inside. The duct work on the roof is a bit more complicated than we've worked with in the past so it's taking a little bit of time, but hopefully we can get a better idea of what's actually happening inside that office real soon."

"You mean cameras, right? You're trying to get cameras inside?"

"Yes." The officer confirmed. "We're working on setting up a …" He stopped short, as he heard the call from the across the lot. "I'm sorry. I've got to go see about this."

Billy watched helplessly as the officer headed off towards the group of men. He tried to find hope in the plans, in the knowledge that they'd done this many times before, but he couldn't help thinking about the other times he'd heard about situations just like this one. There was a warehouse across town a few months ago, a mall almost a year ago, a house in a town not far from here just the other week. Only one of them ended with everyone walking away. Those odds weren't good enough. Not for him. Not for this. Not with her.

* * *

"Persistent little cusses, aren't they?"

"Should I answer?" She tried not to let him hear the tremor in her voice. She'd always hated feeling anything less than empowered but somehow, having a gun pointed directly at your head had a way of stripping every ounce of strength from you.

"It would be impolite not to, wouldn't it?"

She steadied her breathing before picking up the phone. His body pressed closer to her and she felt the cool metal of the gun brush against her bare skin as she managed a shaky "Hello?"

"Miss Summers?"

"Yes."

"This is Officer Clarke. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"That's good to hear." He glanced back toward the group and nodded. "Ms. Summers can you tell us who's in there with you?"

"I …" She turned her head a bit to look up at him. "They want to know your name," she whispered as she pulled the phone away from her mouth. The chair slid quickly and slammed back against the desk as he jerked the receiver from her hand. Her ribs throbbed and she groaned as she pushed herself away from the desk a little.

"Ms. Summers?"

"She can't talk right now. If you want to talk to someone, you talk to me."

"Alright," Officer Clarke quickly typed out the note on the screen. "I was just introducing myself to Ms. Summers. I'm Officer Clarke. I'm the lead negotiator here. Would you mind telling me your name?"

"If you're the lead negotiator, I'm guessing you have some experience with this kind of stuff?"

"23 years on the force, 17 in crisis negotiation." Officer Clarke watched the shadow near the window and gestured to the men behind him. He heard the small chuckle on the other side of the line.

"All that time and you still need me to give you all the answers, huh? They might want to reconsider their chain of command out there."

"Sir, you don't have to tell me your name. That's fine. What I'd really like is to talk with Ms. Summers again. It sounds like she might have been in a little bit of pain a moment ago and I'd like to make sure that she's alright."

"She's fine. She's just a little dramatic. She wouldn't know real pain. She had no idea … at least not yet." He pressed the gun harder into her side until she hissed in pain. "She will. I'll make sure of that."

"We just …" He pulled the headphones away from his ear and sighed heavily. "Damn," he hissed.

"Did you say she was hurt?" His heart pounded in his chest as he rushed closer to the man.

"Mr. Abbott." Officer Clarke sighed as he held up his hands to stop his approach. "Listen, I know you're concerned about the situation but the best thing you can do here is to stay out of the way and let the experts do their jobs. There are rules to follow and procedures that have to be respected. Now, if you'll please excuse me …"

He watched as the officer walked away.

Everyone was focused on the planning, the strategy, the rules. He knew better than anyone that sometimes you couldn't play by the rules. Sometimes the rules only complicated things. Phyllis had always understood that side of him. It was something that had always drawn them together, something they'd found in each other that he'd yet to find in anyone else. If the tables were turned, he couldn't help thinking she wouldn't stand here and wait for everyone to do their jobs and follow the procedures. She'd take action. She'd fix it. She'd do whatever she had to do to protect the people she loved.

He looked up towards the window, the shades were still drawn tight. Tonight, he knew what he had to do.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, stop your whining. You're fine." He huffed at her as he took a step back and motioned with the gun for her stand. "Over there," he said gruffly.

Phyllis nodded and slowly walked towards the sofa across the room. There were so many questions in her mind, so many things she wanted to know. Why was he here? What did he want? What had she done to make him come after her this way? Each question held its own set of risks. Would it make him more angry, more volatile?

"Why wouldn't you answer their questions?" she finally managed, forcing her voice to be even and measured even as every inch of her trembled inside. "They're here to do what you want. Why not tell them what this is?"

"You think it's that simple, huh?" He shook his head before sitting down on the table in front of her. "You rich people … you think everything has an easy out and I guess for you people it does. Your whole life – every problem has been solved for you. Ever since you were a little kid I bet? Get into trouble at school, your parents probably put you in one of those fancy schmancy private deals. You do some drugs or drink too much, Daddy pays off a judge gets you a clean record again … like it never even happened. You fix things. That's what your kind does."

She glared at him. "You don't know anything about me. You don't know what my life is like. You think you know, but …"

"I know plenty," he snapped, his mood instantly darkening. "You trying to say I'm stupid or something?"

"I didn't say that," she responded quickly, immediately recognizing the button she'd hit. "I just mean that my life hasn't been as perfect as you think it is and whatever it is that caused you to do this, I'm sure we can …"

"Work something out?" He scoffed at the idea. "That's another thing you all love to do. You love to try and work things out. You just want me to name a price and then disappear, right? That's exactly what your arrogant stuffed shirt said when he strolled into that day."

She narrowed her eyes as she listened to him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said in earnest.

"I can believe that. You probably do this so often that you have no idea the actual lives you're messing with. You look like the type. No heart. No soul. Just a callous bitch that doesn't give a damn who she hurts."

"Sounds like you've got her pegged alright."

"What the …" He eyes shot towards the voice for only a second before grabbing her roughly and pulling her closer to him.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him standing in the doorway, ever mindful of the gun pressed hard into her back. "Billy." Her lips mouthed the words though her voice barely whispered. "Wh …"

"Shut up." He jabbed the gun against her harder. "Shut up," he screamed again as she yelped.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?"

Billy took a few more steps into the room. His heart thundered inside his chest as he watched the obvious pain and fear play out on her face. It went against every instinct he had to hold himself back, to pretend not to care, to be cold and distant. Nothing else seemed to matter now, not the arguments, not the lies, not the pain they had caused each other. None of it.

"Billy Abbott," he said as succinctly as he could. "I'm here because this is my family's company."

"Not according to this one." He used the gun to point to her. "She's the CEO now. This is her deal and she's making a real go of it, really looking after the bottom dollar, making money at all cost, to hell with who it hurts, to hell with who ruins, so I'm thinking …. To hell with her."

"You and a lot of other people." His stomach churned as he said the words. "Trust me, you're not gonna get any blowback from me. I didn't come here to save her. I came here to save my father's company and quite honestly, getting rid of her would be doing me a huge favor."

* * *

"Officer Clarke, could I see you for a second?"

"If you'll give me just a second." He nodded at the young man that stood by the table as he stepped over towards the uniformed man. "Yeah, what do you need?"

"I think we might have a problem."

"I've got that much, Roberts. Come on, I don't have time for word games. What's the issue?"

"We're still working on getting eyes in the offices but we were able to get access into one of the security cameras that looks over the hallway and there's another person …"

"Wait a minute – are you saying there are additional hostages in the building?" The man's voice immediately changed and his body began to move towards the group in an effort to alert them.

"Not hostages," the officer said quickly. "Abbott. Billy Abbott is inside."

"How the …"

He shook his head. "He must have gained entrance through the freight elevator. We're not sure. All we know is he's inside and we've got a pretty good idea of where he's headed."

* * *

Billy watched as the smile spread across the man's face.

"Looks like you're having quite a run of bad luck tonight." He leaned down and whispered the words into her ear. "No white knight coming in here to save you. Hell, sounds like this one might be willing to hold you still for a clean kill shot."

"Billy, come on … you …" She looked at him, searching for some semblance of the man she used to know, the one she loved, the one she thought loved her. Was it possible that so much damage had been done? Could he truly feel nothing for her now or worse, could he honestly want her gone? "You can't honestly feel that …"

"You know what you did, Phyllis." Staring into her eyes was almost more than he could take. He could see the pain, the confusion, the questions, and more than anything, he wanted to explain. "You can't just go around hurting people and expecting it to be okay. You can't just expect people to forgive and forget. I don't know what you did to him, but I know what you did to me and I'm here to tell him just what kind of person he's dealing with."


End file.
